In the Beginning
by whiterose blackrose
Summary: "Alright," the Doctor clapped his hands, "I think we need a little more cloud from the cloud drawer, and then we're pretty much done with this planet." ((Originally a story for Creative Writing.))


In The Beginning…

"Alright," the young man claps his hands together loudly in excitement. Before him is a small floating ball of glowing blue Artron energy. All across the expanse of the ball are dips and curves filled with what looks like water. Some of the energy has been pulled up to look like mountains and cliffs and plateaus. Green covers half the ball while the other is blue, like the ocean. And, floating above the ball are puffs of clouds. "I think we need a little more cloud from the cloud drawer, and then we're pretty much done with this planet." His companion stirred from where she had been looking out the window, staring off into the void of dark matter and swilling nothingness that existed outside their workshop.

Inside the workshop, however, is an environment in which two humanoid creatures with binary vascular systems could exist. The room is cluttered with dirt and floating fluff and snow slowly melting on the floor. She watches him with dark brown eyes as his excitement rises, as it always does when they've completed another project.

He dances around the room, his arms flailing in excitement as he grabs his companion's hand. The young woman, her brown eyes wide, laughs loudly as he swings her around the room. "Doctor, why don't you _finish_ the project and then we can dance around the work table?" she suggests, laugher making her golden eyes sparkle.

"But Clara," the man whines as she lets him go and pushes him toward the back corner of the workshop, where there are rows upon rows of drawers, all high and very narrow. The man in the bow tie with floppy hair opens the top drawer of the nearest shelf and smiles. "Looks like we're in luck," he beams in that funny way of his. "We've got just enough rels left to add a little more." A rel of cloud was about the size of a fingernail or the amount you could gather up in a pinch.

"Well, I should probably order more," Clara smiles at the daft old face of her companion, watching as his green eyes sparkle in excitement. "'Cause you'll probably forget and we'll have no atmosphere for the next planet. It'll be uninhabitable. _Again_."

"That only happened once!" the Doctor argues, a frown marring his features for only a moment before the smile is back. "Why do you have to keep bringing it up?" Clara just giggles, rolling her eyes, but she ignores his question.

The man grabs a few rels of the soft downy substance, a huge smile on his face. He never seemed to stop smiling, her planet maker, her Doctor. "Well, where should they go?" He walks back over to the ball of Artron energy with its hills and valleys and mountaintops covered in a dusting of snow from the snow drawer.

"I think it should probably go in that big empty spot where you were plannin' to put it a few moments ago," Clara suggests, pointing to the only spot on the floating blue ball that is devoid of white floating clouds.

"I… Oh, shut up!" he whines like a child before they smile at each other. The Doctor presses his thumb to the ball, slowly beginning to spread and pinch the malleable cloud-stuff with his large fingers as if he is wiping dirt off of his thumb.

Clara crosses her arms and smiles at him, watching with golden eyes as he continues to mold the ball to look like a habitable planet. She looks out the only window in the workshop, her eyes trying to focus on a pinpoint of light in the darkness. All that exists in the Universe at the moment is their ship, a tiny blip in the thick expanse of dark energy and dark matter just waiting to explode with silent energy.

"What do you think will come of us when matter and dark matter collide?" Clara worries her lower lip between her teeth.

"We'll be hundreds of billions of years in the future, Clara," the Doctor reassures her. "We just have to make the planets that will eventually exist. We'll be long gone because we've got to go place these planets all over the Universe."

"Fine," Clara replies, crossing her arms as she watches the man in tweed store the new planet under an airtight container next to all of the others. Rows upon rows of blue Artron balls float in their own containers, each with a unique design and chemical makeup. Clara's personal favorite is one that they've decided to call Earth, a planet that will house a species of intelligent life that will resemble the two planet makers themselves. "If we don't, it'll just be empty space out there." She crosses and uncrosses her arms, a small smile lifting the left corner of her mouth to create a single dimple on the apple of her cheek. "As long as I get to make the planet this time." He concedes with a smile, watching as she puts on her thin rimmed glasses, nothing like the man's thicker old man glasses.

"What should we do for our next planet?" the Doctor asks instead, trying to pull Clara from the darkness that lurks outside like a predator. He grabs the brunette's arm, dragging her over to where the worktable is. In tiny pockets around the table are small objects that will later take on the features of mountains and rivers and streams. As Clara had deduced before, the rels of cloud are dwindling and there is only a few strands left at the bottom of the cup that holds them down. "Maybe less sand this time and more rivers?" He motions to the almost full cup of salt water next to the cup of fresh water and they've certainly been sparing with the water. The Doctor turns to Clara with a hopeful look on his face. He's always loved building the river and oceanic planets because he got to play with the water. "What do you think?"

Clara rolls her eyes at the man. "We can't make more planets without clouds, Doctor," she raps her fist against the side of his head jokingly. "Have you forgotten already?"

"No, I haven't," the Doctor crosses and recrosses his arms uncomfortably. "I just think we should get started on the next project before we add the clouds and that kind of stuff."

"Sure," Clara smiles teasingly, "sure."

"Except there's only one problem with needing more clouds, Clara," the Doctor frowns and scratches his chin. "I thought I brought along enough of everything to get us through at least four billion years of new planets. We haven't even gotten half way through and we've gone and wasted it all."

Clara glares. "We haven't wasted it all. You were the one who wanted a few planets where flying creatures would develop. You wanted a planet where _dragons_ could exists!" She pokes him in the chest. "So it isn't my fault and you were the one who used up so much."

"But Clara, think about it…" the Doctor's eyes grew starry. "A planet filled with flying reptilian creatures! Sentient creatures! Intelligent creatures!" With each explanation the Doctor's hands flail wildly, as if his movements will help punctuate his statement.

"Yeah, dragons are cool, but now we're out of clouds," Clara crosses her arms and frowns. "Look, we have to finish the rest of our quota, but we can't make habitable planets without atmosphere… which we can't do without clouds!"

"I know, but we'll just have to get some more," the Doctor shrugs as if it's no big deal that they don't have anymore atmosphere.

Clara almost face palms as she realized he has no idea what's going on. "Yes, Doctor, I know we need to get some more…" she starts, before she gestures to the darkness around them and asks, "but where _exactly_ do we get that from?"

**Wrote this for my Creative Writing Class and it turned into a friendly one-shot between the Doctor and Clara. Hope you like it! Don't forget to review!**


End file.
